


Not My Sins

by Guardian_of_Hope



Series: Not My Sins [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Family, Gen, Secret Identity, Team Building, Tony is a dad, alternate iron man identity, alternate univervse, friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark's greatest secret is revealed to Pepper Potts, and Iron Man arrives on the scene. Things are not what they seem in the early days of Iron Man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Iron Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate universe story about the Avengers. I really can’t say much else right now without spoiling the whole story. Well, I can say that this relies heavily on the Marvel Cinematic Universe for time line and characterizations, while aspects of the comic books will also be present, although occasionally in an altered format. Far warning, I don’t own anything about the Avengers, I’m just writing this story because it would not let me alone. It kept growing, and growing, and growing. Special thanks to my new beta, walkingonrain, aka Nutcase 2, for encouraging me even when I begged her not to, and, of course, for betaing this. Note: OCs abound, because I want them to.

Stane knew he’d messed up, knew he’d gotten himself in trouble when Potts came sniffing around. Especially when she left with that fed on her arm. Still, he’d done it, he’d gotten Tony’s arc reactor, left the arrogant playboy to die in his new found pacifism. Because really, how did Tony think he’d get away with never designing weapons. It was in his blood, his bone, and his soul. Howard had done that, it was his legacy.

Therefore, it was with great pleasure that Stane stood over the terrified woman in her extremely tall, extremely impractical heels and proceeded to fire her.

It would have been a great pleasure, except that a jolt of energy, a repulsor blast, hit him in the back. Stane’s suit went haywire, flashing damage reports, and sounding alerts. Turning, Stane found himself face to face with a red and gold armored man hovering above him, utilizing what was clearly Stark’s repulsor technology. “Pepper,” a distorted, mechanical voice ground out, “run.”

Stane started to turn back to Potts as the click clack of her heels announced her retreat, but another repulsor blast made him turn. “Tony,” Stane ground out,  fucking Stark, he thought. “I thought you were dead.”

The flying armor didn’t respond, verbally at least. Instead, a hand lifted and another repulsor blast hit him square in the chest. “Now that’s not sporting,” Stane said, “why don’t you come closer?”

The head on the armor turned sideways, as if considering Stane’s orders, and then blasted him again, darting to the side before Stane could respond.

The next few minutes, Stane was ashamed to admit, he  was rather like an idiot trying to swat a fly. The red and gold idiot,  fucking Stark, darted around him, never touching down, hitting him with repulsor blasts when he thought he could get away with it. “What are you doing, Tony?” Stane finally asks, trying not to pant.

“Old boxing technique,” the grating mechanical voice replies, “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

“That isn’t going to work,” Stane told  fucking Stark, as he activates his jet boots. “I can fly to.”

“Catch me if you can,”  fucking Stark replied and races for the sky.

Stane accelerated, unable to hold in a laugh because he is  flying and he has always enjoyed the sky. Now if only  fucking Stark would come closer.

He doesn’t, of course, the fucking bastard.

The red and gold armor clad man darted around him, utilizing his more streamline armor to fly circles around Stane’s suit. They dart across the sky and back to the ground and finally,  finally, Stane gets a hold of the little bastard. He threw the man onto the ground and lifted his foot to crush the annoyance. It had taken far too long already; Stane should have been on his way to a country with no extradition treaty, leaving  fucking Stark dead behind him.

Instead, he is here, trying to trap the man for the death he oh so rightly deserved. Stane growled a curse as  fucking Stark rolled away from him at the last moment, leaping to his feet with an agility Stane had never noticed in him before. Then the menace is in the air, darting around him. Stane tried to turn, but the heavy armor is nowhere near as agile as  fucking Stark’s toy. Something slams into him from behind shortly after Stane loses sight of  fucking Stark. Alarms wail as his targeting computer, then his leg controls short out. He reaches over his shoulder, but there is nothing there. “Stark,” he roars.

Fucking Stark floats around in front of him easily, and they stare at each other as Stane tried to get his suit to move. Then  fucking Stark moves, curling up on himself, and there is a low level hum of something powering up.

Stane takes the blast from  fucking Stark’s chest straight to the head.

/…/

Agent Phil Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, or S.H.I.E.L.D., had seen some interesting things in his day. First as an Army Ranger and then in the employ of the State Department before being poached to S.H.I.E.L.D. by Nick Fury; he’d learned more about the secrets of the world than most people could even imagine existed. One thing he never thought he would see in real life was a man-sized version of  Robot Wars, fought by the ego-manic Obadiah Stane in a larger than life battle suit, and someone Stane insisted was Tony Stark in an accurate to scale suit that shot lasers and flew.

Still, when Coulson picked his way from the lab and arrived in the lobby to see the end of the battle, he was not expecting to see Stark, if that’s who it was, hit Stane in the head with an incredibly powerful blast from his chest armor. Virginia Potts is also in the parking lot, Coulson notes, staring at Stark in horror as Stane’s battle suit collapsed to the ground. Stark turned away from Stane, looking at Coulson for a long moment. “Agent Coulson,” he says simply.  It is not the voice Coulson heard when he spoke to Stark before, this is a mechanical, filtered and altered voice, as if Stark were attempting to hide his identity.

“Mister Stark,” Coulson replied slowly, still not quite sure if he was talking to the man, or if there were a stranger judging him behind that gold mask.

There’s a burst of static, then, “That’s my father, Agent. If you still want that debriefing, it will be two days. A lot more happened tonight than you are aware of.” Stark turned, “Pepper,” he said finally, “I hope you don’t consider Stane’s word to be final.”

“No, of course not,” Potts replied, “Tony.”

“You’ll be needed tomorrow. Clean up, press conference, I don’t know what all will be needed.” Stark looked between then, “Until we meet again.” He repositioned his feet into a stance just off of attention, dropped his arms, flattened his hands palm down and took off with the repulsor beams he’d used as a weapon now being used as flight stabilizers. He paused for a quick, two finger salute, then shot into the sky, aimed for the shore, and his home.

“I need to go out there,” Potts said after a moment. “I can’t imagine what he’s up to with this.”

“I understand,” Coulson told her, already prepping himself with the list of forms he’d need to fill out for this. A cover story for Stark, and Stane’s death would also be necessary.

“Would you care to come with me?” Potts offered politely, startling Coulson from the mental note not to let Barton suggest said cover story. Romanoff still muttered invectives whenever Budapest came up.

“I would,” Coulson replied, drawing his mind back from his thoughts.

Stark’s mansion was mostly dark when they arrived, not lit up like the gossip rags and society magazines showed it. “That’s unusual,” Potts commented as they passed through the gates.

“Is it?” Coulson asked.

“When Tony’s up, the house is up, if he’s asleep, it’s dark. Unless someone else is here,” she trailed off as she parked in front of the house. They got out and headed up the stairs to the door, it swung open as they approached to reveal a man Coulson recognized as James Rhodes.

“Pepper?” Rhodes asked, startled.

“Hi, Rhodes,” Pepper said, “this is Agent Coulson. We came to check on Tony.”

“He’s asleep,” Rhodes replied, leaning in the door frame. “I sort of promised nobody would come in tonight. It’s been a tough night for him.”

“The fight with Stane,” Coulson began.

Rhodes blinked, “I wouldn’t say there was a fight,” he began.

“He means the fight at Stark Industry, with the suit,” a clipped, British voice announced.

“Oh,” Rhodes said, “that fight. Yeah, Tony’s exhausted. I didn’t even give him the cup of secret decaf, he just crashed. That’s why you aren’t supposed to be here, and Tony,” Rhodes hesitated, “it was a bad night, ok? He just wants to sleep, maybe bang around down stairs after he gets some shut eye.”

“If you’re sure,” Pepper began slowly.

“Positive,” Rhodes said. “I promise, Tony’s fine, he’s a bit bruised up, but fine.” The man stepped back and closed the door firmly.

 


	2. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Nutcase 2 for the beta! Minor Edit changed CERN to England because of reasons to be explained later.

When Pepper arrived at Stark Mansion the next morning the house was quiet, and she was unsurprised to see no sign of Tony, or Rhodey. “JARVIS, where is Tony?” She asked when Tony’s bedroom proved empty. After the kayak incident, Pepper refused to search the house if she couldn’t find him in under three minutes.

“He is in the workshop,” JARVIS replied, “with Colonel Rhodes.”

Pepper nodded and headed for the stairs; it was time to get to the bottom of what had happened the night before. As she descended the stairs, however, Pepper felt a nagging worry that something was wrong. As she gained her first view of the workshop, she realized that she wasn’t hearing Tony’s music for a change. Usually she could hear it from the stairwell unless Rhodey had turned it down himself. She cleared the stairs and looked into the workshop.

It took a moment for the scene to settle in her mind, but she doubted it was something she would ever forget. Tony was leaning against one of the walls, a glass in hand, laughing, Rhodey was sitting on the chair from the desk, gesturing as he spoke. In the middle of the workshop, however were two young men, one of which was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, with shaggy, dark blond hair, and sneakers. The other had short cropped, blond hair, had a set of muscles that would make her ex-boyfriend sigh in envy, and wore only a bright red Speedo.  Embedded in the young man’s bare chest was an arc reactor. This young man spotted her and his easy smile faded as he looked over at Tony and said something.

Tony saw her and his smile faded a little, but he got up and walked over to open the door. “Code not working?” He asked, leaning against the door frame and blocking her from entering the workshop.

“No,” Pepper said trying not to stare at the strangers, “I just didn’t expect you to have guests.” She gave him a pointed look and reached for the door to push it further open.

“They aren’t exactly guests,” Tony replied, he smiled his ‘I’m being a brat and you love it’ smile, reached to put an arm on her shoulder and all but pushed her further into the workshop. “Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts, I would like you to meet my sons, Doctor Robin Goodfellow,” the young man in the polo shirt waved; now that she could see his face, Pepper realized that only the man’s glasses kept him from being identical to the other; “And Steven Goodfellow.”

“Stark,” the Speedo wearing brother said in a crisp, English accent, “Steven Stark.”

“I don’t understand,” Pepper began, looking from Tony to Steven and back again.

“Do you need me to explain where babies come from?” Tony interrupted her, “Didn’t you learn that, in like, the sixth grade?” He glared at the twins as they snickered.

“No,” Pepper said sharply, then shook her head, “I mean yes, but,” Pepper stopped talking and took a deep breath. Unable to remember her original question, she asked, “How come I didn’t know you had children?”

“Only three people knew,” Rhodey said, standing up, “Tony, the boys’ mother, and me”

“Well, five if you count the two of us,” Steven said, gesturing to his brother. Dr Goodfellow gave her a little half smile before looking at a phone Pepper hadn’t noticed him holding. Whatever he was doing, it seemed to serve as a distraction from the rest of them.

“Well, thank you Captain Obvious,” Rhodey replied.

Steven crossed his arms, “You’re welcome, Lieutenant Sarcasm,”

“Hey, that’s Lieutenant Colonel,” Rhodey snapped, “show some respect soldier.”

“They were born before I ever hired you,” Tony said, raising his voice and stopping the fight before it could escalate. “And before my parents died. Bridgett, the boys’ mother, raised them in England to keep them from the press, and my father.”

“Your father,” Pepper repeated, wondering if it was the topic or the twins that was keeping Tony, mostly, serious. She would have to bring one or both of the twins to the board meetings, they might actually get some work done.

“Howard Stark had already scared one girl into having an abortion when Tony was sixteen.” Rhodey said, moving to stand closer to Tony than he had been. Dr Goodfellow showed his phone to Steven, who seemed grateful for the distraction. “Obadiah also scared a few girls after Howard died. There may have been more, but we don’t know. Bridgett didn’t want an abortion, and Tony was still technically a minor, so she ran. Went home to England and never told anyone who the father was.”

“It’s not like he abandoned us,” Steven spoke up, not looking up from the phone, “even if he couldn’t be there all the time, he wrote us letters and tried to make the big occasions. When he couldn’t, Uncle Jim showed up with a camcorder so that Dad could share the memories.”

“I knew you weren’t sterile,” Pepper said, then flushed as all four of them stared at her. “Right after I started working for the company, back when I was in finance, everyone was talking about those five woman who sued for paternity. After you had paternity tests done and they were all negative, people started saying you were sterile.”

“No,” Tony shook his head, “Obie.”

The temperature of the room dropped. Pepper looked around to see that Rhodey had a look of hatred, but Steven had paled and Dr Goodfellow looked stone faced.

“I mean, I got a vasectomy when I was twenty-one,” Tony said hastily, his face neutral. “Since I wasn’t going to settle down then, we, I didn’t want to risk us having paternity claims that turned out to be true. I already had Steve and Robin if something happened to me, and if something happened to them, it is possible to reverse the procedure.”

Pepper took a deep breath, combining what she had learned yesterday,  Stane had hired people to kill Tony, with what Tony had not said, she realized that Stane had been playing a very long game. She decided to change the subject, “Why does Steven have an arc reactor?” Pepper asked, nodding towards Steven. Dr Goodfellow had his arm over Steven’s shoulders and they were leaning in towards each other. From the looks of things, she’d managed to divert them from one touchy subject to another.

“Yeah well,” Tony said, “we didn’t tell the truth about the convoy. I actually wasn’t alone with the soldiers that day Pepper. Steve was with me. We were going to Switzerland to see Robin before going our separate ways.”

“The cover story is that Dad had a freelance reporter with him,” Steven said, “someone doing a write up on the Life of Tony Stark. The unofficial line is Dad had a private bodyguard in addition to the soldiers; a  discrete bodyguard. Said bodyguard was also taken by the Ten Rings, and killed at the camp as part of the persuasion they employed to get Dad to do the work.” He glanced around, “By the way, can we finish this so that I can get dressed?  It is much too cold in here to wear a Speedo.”

“I’m not doing it,” Doctor Goodfellow said suddenly, stepping away from his brother as if he’d been shocked. “You two changed his diaper, this really shouldn’t be a problem.” It was, Pepper realized, the first time she’d heard him speak. He had the same light tenor voice his brother had, but he wasn’t as loud.

“A diaper is a totally different thing,” Rhodey protested, holding up his hands and taking a few steps back.

Tony turned away and headed for the bar, just behind the desk, “I never changed your diapers.” As Tony mixed himself a drink, the three began to argue.

“Sorry about them,” Steven said, catching Pepper’s attention again. He was moving closer to her, making it easier for her to hear him.

“What’s going on?” Pepper asked, trying to ignore Tony and Rhodey as they shouted at each other.

“We need to measure my inner thighs for Dad’s project,” Steven replied, “no one wants to do it, and I always move the tape before I can get an accurate measurement.”

There was a sudden silence, and Pepper looked at Tony involuntarily. “We could always ask Pepper to do it.” Tony smirked at her in challenge, “What do you say, Pepper?”

Rhodey made a noise of protest.

“Brilliant idea,” Steven said dryly, “ask your PA to measure the inner thigh of the strange, half naked young man she just met. Seriously, how have you not gone bankrupt from sexual harassment suits yet?”

Pepper sighed and held out her hand, “I’ll do it.  Hand me the tape measure.” She gave Tony one of those looks he never seemed to understand, the  ‘I’ll do this, but there will be an expensive charge on your credit card later’ look. She had been eyeing that Coach bag for months.

“It’s metric,” Steven told her as Dr Goodfellow handed it over.

“I think I’ll manage,” Pepper said politely.

Steven fell into what Pepper recognized as parade rest, hands resting at the small of his back. She walked over and knelt down, realizing as she did so that Steven was actually shorter than Tony, he had just seemed taller because he stood up straight naturally. She wondered if pointing out that his son had better posture would get Tony to stop slouching. Using that thought as a minor distraction, Pepper quickly measured, and called out the numbers for the others, then she stood up and backed away. Steven gave her a small nod, “Thank you Ms. Potts.”

“You’re welcome, Steven,” Pepper replied.

Steven flushed a little, “You can call me Steve, or Puck if you want, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper smiled, “Only if you call me Pepper.”

Tony cleared his throat, “Now that we have those measurements JARVIS, let’s see the render.”

“Working on it sir,” JARVIS replied.

“Tony,” Pepper said as Steve and Dr Goodfellow left the workshop muttering about clothes and tea, “about last night.”

“That wasn’t me,” Tony said firmly, almost vehemently, “I didn’t fight Stane at Stark Industries.” He waved his hand at Rhodey, who leaned against the desk.

“Don’t lie to me,” Pepper stated calmly, “Obadiah Stane is dead, and I watched you kill him!” She paused, startled at how quickly her voice had risen into a shout. Pepper hadn’t realized just how upset she still was about last night.

“It wasn’t me,” Tony protested, he put the glass down, started towards her with his hand outstretched, “you have to believe that.”

“And let me guess, that wasn’t you at Gulmira either, right?” Pepper challenged him, looking him straight in the eye even as his advance caused her to take a step back.  Wrong move, she thought as Tony dropped his eyes to hide a flash of hurt before looking at her again. Rhodey shifted a little from his spot at the desk, looking uncomfortable.

“Uh, yeah no.  That, that actually was me,” Tony pointed to himself. “Last night though, that, that wasn’t me,” Tony wagged his finger.

Pepper pressed her lips together, “Fine,” she said, still not believing him, but unwilling to push him to the point where his innate cruelty overcame his self control. They’d made it nearly three years since the last time he’d driven her from the mansion in tears, convinced she’d lost her job. She had to admit the dress and shoes he paid for during his apology were her favorite. “I’ve already ordered the clean up started, but that fight caused a lot of damage to public property.” Pepper looked at the tablet she was carrying, “And we should discuss the press conference you asked for, but Agent Coulson would like to meet with you before you speak to the press.”

“We’ll help with the clean up. But don’t let the city guilt you into paying for everything. That’s what tax money is for,” Tony told her, turning away and heading for his drink. “That road was a menace to drivers already.” He paused before taking a sip, “Was anyone hurt?”

“Some of the other agents were hurt, thankfully no one was killed,” Pepper said, mentally pulling together a list of people that she needed to call. Not only Coulson and the press, but security. Realizing what she’d said, Pepper added, “But that was Stane, before you got there. You caused property damage and destroyed some cars. If anything, you saved lives, Tony, by keeping Stane on the property for the most part.”

“Right,” Tony said, flicking his hand at her dismissively. “Find out who lost a car, get them a new one, and pay off what they owe on the old.”

“Tony,” Pepper started to say.

“What?” Tony asked, his voice strained, “Isn’t that something that should happen? I mean, I didn’t actually crush the cars, but it happened because of me, so I should do something about it. You know what’s reasonable for those people to drive, keep them off the IRS radar and all that. Oh, and Steve and Robin are going to be here for a few weeks. Steve might stay, but Robin has to go back to England when we’re done with our face to face.”

“Tony,” Rhodey said, “just breathe.”

“All I really wanted to say,” Pepper said with a smile, “is you’re a better man than you like people to think you are.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her tablet, “Will that be all, Mr Stark?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Edit changed CERN to England because of reasons to be explained later.


	3. Debrief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, to Walking on Rain...thanks for the help as always.
> 
> Second, this story contains flashbacks that are so marked. Enjoy!

Tired of hearing Rhodey assert that he was never on time for anything, Tony decided to be ready early, reinforcing his unpredictability. Pepper had been amazed to arrive at the mansion to find him dressed in a nice suit and looking every inch the responsible billionaire genius she despaired he’d ever become. He smiled a little at the memory, letting it morph into the ‘I’m a genius asshole’ smile he reserved for people he wasn’t sure he liked as Agent Coulson entered the room. He knew that Pepper had been impressed with the federal agent, but Tony wasn’t quite willing to trust her opinion.

He wasn’t sure he trusted anyone’s opinion who had in any way liked Obadiah. Given that Obadiah had been determined to not only kill him, but had gone after his son, Tony felt entitled to some completely rational anger.

“Mr. Stark,” Coulson said in the sharp way that indicated he’d said his name more than once.

“Agent Coulson,” Tony replied as he straightened in his desk chair, “let’s get this over with then.” He really wasn’t sure why Pepper had insisted on the meeting being held at Stark Industries, but he was willing to go along with it.

“Of course,” Coulson said, “would you also be willing to answer questions about the other night?”

“I’ll tell you what I know,” Tony confirmed.

Coulson nodded and looked at the file he’d brought with him. “About Afghanistan, after the convoy was attacked and the area searched, it was determined that there were two people unaccounted for, you and a reporter Colonel Rhodes referred to as Brian Jacobs.”

///flashback\\\\\

“I can’t believe this,” one of the soldiers said, “I did not expect to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony smiled, “I can honestly say the same thing.”

“Can I take a picture with you?” The soldier asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Tony agreed.

“I’ll take it,” Jacobs said, holding up his camera, “I can send a copy and maybe even use it with the article.”

“Thanks,” the soldier said eagerly as he leaned closer to Tony.

The soft click of the shutter was drowned by an explosion and gunfire.

///End\\\\\

“Jacobs was along for a human interest piece,” Tony said in an almost dead voice, “His boss had an in with Obadiah and the story was supposed to show how Stark Industries technology was protecting our soldiers.”

“What happened to him?” Coulson asked.

“During the attack, he followed me,” Tony said carefully, “I left the Jeep because I felt that a smaller target would be more likely to survive. He was on the far side of me when the rocket went off. I passed out shortly there after. When I woke up, I was in the terrorist camp, and Jacobs was with me.”

///flashback\\\\\

He had drifted in and out of consciousness, one second he was undergoing surgery without painkillers, the next he was staring down a video camera while someone spoke in a foreign language. Finally, he woke up and knew that he was in a cave, on an exceptionally uncomfortable cot. He lay there for a moment, listening. “Will he wake up soon?”

The relief of hearing that cultured English voice made Tony moan as he closed his eyes. “I believe he is,” a second voice replied.

“Mr. Stark,” the first voice said, “welcome back to the land of the living, of a sort.”

“Brian,” Tony said as he opened his eyes and began to sit up.

“Careful,” Brian said, appearing in his field of vision. “You’ve had some interesting days lately.”

Tony eyed the young Englishman, taking in the torn polo, and bandages that peeked out from underneath, with odd wires trailing down to the car battery he was carrying. Looking down at his own chest, Tony found he was the bearer of a similar arrangement.

///End\\\\\

“There was a third man in the cave,” Tony continued, “Ho Yinsen, the man who saved my life. He had installed the electromagnet while I was unconscious, and hooked it up to a car battery.” He stood up, “Want something to drink, Agent Coulson? I could use some Scotch.”

“No, thank you,” Coulson replied, “but if it helps you.”

Tony lifted his filled glass, “I don’t know about helps,” he muttered and took a drink, then went to sit down again. “The terrorists showed up shortly after I woke up. They wanted me to make weapons. I said no, they tried to torture me, I said no. Then they started on Jacobs. I wasn’t going to let that stand, so I said yes even though I knew I would never do it. First, I made the arc reactor.”

///Flashback\\\\\

“Why did you say yes?” Brian asked him quietly as they watched people bring in supplies from outside.

“Because I’m not getting you killed for me,” Tony replied, equally softly. He watched as the last guard left and shut the door behind him.

“Stark,” Brian hissed, “it’s my job.”

“And I promised your mother,” Tony replied, he hissed back.

“Now what do we do?” Yinsen asked.

Tony smiled tightly, “Now, we get to work.”

///End\\\\\

“Jacobs and Yinsen helped me,” Tony said, “and after the arc reactor was built, we started on the mock ups for the Jericho missile. Our intent was to make it look like we were building to buy us time. I’d already begun sketches for the Mark One.”

“I’m sorry,” Coulson said, “but, the Mark One?”

“The first prototype of the exoskeleton you saw,” Tony replied.

“Was there a problem?” Coulson prompted him.

“Yes,” Tony said quietly, “Jacobs didn’t want to wear it.”

///Flashback\\\\\

“I’m not wearing it,” Brian said.

“You should,” Tony insisted.

“No,” Brian said, “I’m not going to wear the armor. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to fight in it, and I can handle myself without it.”

“You won’t be armed,” Tony protested.

“I won’t need to be,” Brian replied. “You know I’m trained to take care of myself. Putting you in the suit makes it easier for me because it will be nearly bullet proof.”

“You aren’t Superman, Brian,” Tony told him.

“Build me a shield,” Brian replied, “big enough and thick enough I can duck behind with Yinsen and we’ll follow you out.”

“I do not understand,” Yinsen interjected finally.

Tony and Brian exchanged a long look, and then Brian nodded, “Brian isn’t just a reporter,” Tony said as quietly as possible, “he’s a bodyguard.”

Yinsen nodded slightly, “Then I must agree with him. You must be in the suit.”

///End\\\\\

“Why did you agree to be in the suit then?” Coulson asked.

“Because Jacobs wasn’t just a reporter,” Tony said, “he was a bodyguard. There had been concern about the increase in terrorist activity so Rhodey recommended him to me.”

“A bodyguard,” Coulson repeated.

“I don’t know why they took him back to the camp,” Tony said, “I really don’t, but he was there, and they used him against me.”

“So you were in the suit,” Coulson said.

“Right,” Tony agreed, “and I made a shield for Jacobs and Yinsen to carry. They were supposed to head out after I cleared the way to the cave mouth. Once they were clear, I would blow the weapons and get out myself.”

“It didn’t go to plan, I take it?” Coulson asked.

“Not exactly,” Tony agreed.

///Flashback\\\\\

They came to check on them just as Tony was being fastened into the armor. The timing was the worst, because Tony couldn’t get out, and not being seen by the cameras or the guards would bring them before anyone of them were ready.

Brian had rigged an explosive on the door that morning before they’d begun to strap Tony in, and it bought them time. Time to get the chest piece situated and the program running to power the whole thing. Not enough for the program to complete, not enough to get Tony loose.

Yinsen moved before Brian could react, grabbing a machine gun from a dead guard and charging away. “I’ll get him,” Brian said, picking up the metal shield Tony had made him, almost vanishing behind the giant device.

“No,” Tony began.

“Not this time,” Brian snapped. He vanished, Tony could hear some rustling and clicks of metal on metal, then footsteps trotting away.

Tony stared at the progress bar, willing it to go faster with all of his might.

///End\\\\\

“There was a random visit just as I was being strapped into the suit,” Tony said, “Jacobs had wired the door to blow that morning in case we were interrupted. It bought us time, but not enough. Yinsen decided to take matters in his own hand. He grabbed a machine gun and went running, firing into the cave roof like a madman. Jacobs finished the suit, started the power program, and then took off after Yinsen with the shield.”

“What happened to them?” Coulson asked, almost gently.

“I found Yinsen, he’d been shot and was dying.” Tony spoke slowly and deliberately, not even minding the way his voice cracked. He lifted his drink, surprised to find it empty.

Coulson took the glass, “What about Brian Jacobs?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said. “I didn’t see him, and I looked. The shield,” he shuddered, “I found the shield lying on the ground outside the cave. There were bodies, but, not his. I kept going, I started burning the weapons.” Coulson put the glass down, filled. Tony nodded and took a drink. “I think, I think he did something, because some of the explosives, they went up faster than I expected. Once I was sure that everything was burning, I left. Brian was supposed to take one of their vehicles, we’d seen them when they showed me all the weapons they had. I still don’t know if he made it out.”

“Tony,” Coulson said, “someone fired at least one rocket into that cave. The kind that can come from a shoulder mounted launcher. When we traced the explosions, we found the launcher.”

“That wasn’t me,” Tony replied. He drained his glass and fought to get himself under control. If he never had to speak of Afghanistan, it would be too soon.

“Now, about Gulmira,” Coulson said.

“Me,” Tony replied, feeling drained and ready to end the interview, “that was me. I heard about the terrorists, the Ten Rings, attacking the city and I acted.”

“Why?” Coulson asked, “the Ten Rings has been terrorizing that area for years.”

“Yinsen was from Gulmira.”

“Why did you build the armor the second time?”

“To prove that I could do it again. To see how to do it right. Until I saw a Jericho missile at Gulmira, I didn’t plan to use it like I did.”

“What about the other night, when you went after Stane.”

“I didn’t go after Stane. I was not in any shape to go after Stane.”

“Then who did?”

“A friend, ex-military type that I have been thinking about hiring for a bodyguard.”

“Who?”

“I was asked not to give his name. As I respect my friend, I will abide by his wishes.”

“It possible someone will press charges, Mr. Stark.”

“Stane was in possession of faulty armor,” Tony closed his eyes, “I saw the schematics, afterwards. He didn’t have the right amount of protection. The blast was calculated to be under what the helmet should have withstood. It would have fried circuitry, maybe the optics, but it shouldn’t have killed him.” He opened his eyes and stood, “This interview is over, Agent Coulson. Kindly remove yourself from the premises.”

“Mr Stark,” Coulson began.

“I said leave,” Tony all but snarled, slamming his hands on the desk and leaning over it; “get out of my office, get out of this building, get  off Stark Industries property now.”

“Very well,” Coulson replied, “but this isn’t over.”

“It never is.”

 


	4. Life Goes On

Steve knew that his brother wasn’t a fan of sparring, but Steve had a philosophy; if he was going to be his brother’s semi-permanent body guard, along with looking out for his dad, then Robin would know basic self defense. Given that their mother had only let them do activities so long as they both were involved, Steve knew Robin was proficient in basic martial arts. All Steve had to do was keep him in shape.

They had the perfect place to practice too, at the Malibu Mansion. Tony had redecorated one of his lounges into a room where they could box, or spar, in comfort. It had a great view, but Steve didn’t often stop to admire it. He was busy getting his brother to throw a proper punch.

“Come on, Rob,” Steve exclaimed, “You have to put your whole body into the punch. You’re telegraphing it, yes, but no matter where you have connected, you’ll leave a bruise at the least.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Robin replied.

“If you land that hit, then I need to be hit,” Steve told him. “Just throw the punch like you mean it.”

Robin reared back and threw himself into a right hook. Steve started to raise his arms when he went light headed. The room spun and began to grey out. Then Robin’s fist connected with his shoulder, the pain of the punch jolted through him, snapping him out of his dizziness, but not before he hit the ground.

“Oh bloody hell,” Robin breathed.

“Steve, what did you do?” Tony demanded from somewhere outside the ring.

“I’m Steve,” Steve told his dad as he rubbed his shoulder. Whatever experiment Robin had been waiting for must have been completed. “Nice punch, Boy Wonder. It only took you half an hour to do that.”

“Are you ok?” Robin and Tony asked in unison.

“Fine,” Steve replied, waving his hand. He started to push himself up, and the room began to spin again, “Or not.” He sat back down.

“What happened?” Tony asked.

“I got dizzy,” Steve told them, “I’m probably just dehydrated or something. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Then why are you rubbing your chest?” Robin asked.

Steve glanced down in surprise, “I honestly don’t know,” he said., dropping his hand. “It doesn’t hurt anymore than it normally does.”

“Have you been having dizzy spells often?” Tony inquired sharply, an odd look on his face.

“A few,” Steve admitted, “but I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just tired or something.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Robin demanded, “Something could be wrong.”

“I’m fine, ok,” Steve insisted as he forced himself up. “I just got dizzy for a moment. I’ll drink some water and we can get back to your lesson.”

“No,” Tony said firmly, “Steve, I need you to come down to the lab. Robin, go take a shower.”

“Yes sir,” the twins replied in unison. They both ducked out of the boxing ring, with Steve grabbing a water bottle as he got down and Robin heading for the bathroom as quickly as he could.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Steve asked as he drank the water.

“How long have you been having dizzy spells?” Tony asked, turning and heading for the workshop.

“A couple of days,” Steve answered, “the first one was last week. I was putting away a book in the library.”

“That’s not entirely accurate,” JARVIS announced. “You nearly fell in the shower the Saturday before last. You claimed to have been light headed then.”

“In the shower?” Tony repeated, “Steve?”

“That only happened once,” Steve insisted.

“JARVIS?” Tony asked.

“To the best of my knowledge, he is correct,” JARVIS replied, “although he has cut his shower time in half at least.”

“Thanks for timing me,” Steve muttered. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Dad. I’m fine.”

“I doubt that.” Tony called over his shoulder, “I’ve, “I’ve been having dizzy spells too. For two weeks now. JARVIS and I are going to run some scans on you, and then we’ll both do a blood test. Robin will be our control if we need him to.”

“What do you think is going on?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted after a long moment, “but we’ll figure it out.”

“Surely you have some thought,” Steve pushed, “an idea, a suspicion? Should I stop working out? What about the Iron Man project, are we putting that on hold?”

“Steve,” Tony snapped, turning to glare at him. “I. Don’t. Know. I don’t have a guess or a suspicion or anything. Let me run some tests first.”

Steve hesitated, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s ok,” Tony told him, taking a deep breath. “You’re worried and I’m worried. Let’s just get this over with.”

///...`\\\\\

The tests Tony ran were pretty much the same basic tests Steve had gotten at the doctor’s office every year of his life. All they could do was draw their blood and watch and wait for it to be scanned.

Tony was working on parts to the Iron Man, when Steve told him, “I’m going to take a shower.” He didn’t wait for his dad’s acknowledgement before heading upstairs. Tony had a habit of not paying attention to people when he was upgrading or building things and Steve had learned over the past three months to adjust and deal with it. Robin could be almost as bad, in fact, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t had experience in living with a scientist.

What surprised Steve when he got upstairs, however, was Robin facing off with a man Steve had only seen through security cameras. “Doctor Goodfellow,” Steve called, wishing that he’d known to grab his gun.

“Steven,” Robin said, “this is Agent Coulson.”

Steve placed himself neatly between Robin and the agent, offering his hand, “Good afternoon, sir. We were unaware that Doctor Stark was expecting guests.”

“Doctor Stark?” Coulson repeated.

Steve stared at him for a pointed minute before turning, “Doctor Goodfellow, might I remind you that we are leaving in the morning to return to England?”

“Right,” Robin said, with a nod. “I do need to do some packing.” He turned and walked away.

Steve turned back to Coulson, “Is there someway I could help you, Agent Coulson?”

“I need to speak with Mister Stark,” Coulson replied.

“Doctor Stark is in the workshop,” Steve said, “JARVIS will inform him of your arrival, but I wouldn’t expect to see him for a while.” He gave Coulson a charming smile, “Engineers, you know. They never notice unless its about to explode.”

That said, Steve turned and headed back towards the guest wing. “I didn’t get your last name,” Coulson called after him.

“I didn’t give it to you,” Steve replied over his shoulder without slowing down, “I thought it was bloody obvious.”

Stopping by Robin’s room, Steve stuck his head in and said, “Hey, want to mess with the agent’s mind?”

Robin eyed him as he folded his shirts into his suitcase, “Do I actually have to do anything?”

“Stay out of sight.” Steve gave his brother a charming grin not unlike the one he’d given to Coulson.

“Just don’t get arrested,” Robin told him pointedly, opening a drawer and beginning to empty it.

“I won’t,” Steve promised. He paused to take note of what his brother was wearing and headed off for his shower. There were always bonuses to being identical twins.


End file.
